29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grady
I had spent Monday writing and tracking down the last of the props and costumes for the following weekend. I hadn’t had much of a chance to clear my head and get some perspective. Now it was Tuesday afternoon, and I strolled through the center of town with my dogs in an effort to sort out my feelings.
Jack would expect a response from me by Friday, and I wasn’t sure what answer to give. Maggie had been distant Sunday and Monday. Not physically, at least. We’d been all over each other. Emotionally, she’d thrown up a barrier, thin but impenetrable. While I definitely had her body, I wasn’t anywhere close to winning her heart.
Where had I gone wrong? A couple of times, I’d considered asking her, but I didn’t want to scare her away. The conversations I’d had with Emily during prep for the Small Town Saviors show made me think Maggie would get spooked by too much too soon. Emily told me none of the men Maggie dated had measured up. I hadn’t had the guts to ask her what bar they’d missed. I could tell I wasn’t clearing it either, at least not yet.
Without thinking, I steered toward her pharmacy. She was working a shorter day to take care of some business around winter parking in the town. The current system wasn’t working, and we’d talked about the options last night in bed. Being on the same team, working together to solve a problem instead of creating them for each other had been nice. I loved the way her mind worked.
Up ahead, Jim cleaned the pharmacy windows. A grin formed at the sight. If I could figure out how to win Maggie’s heart, I’d get the additional prize of her family.
“Hard at work?” I tightened my grip on the dogs as I approached. They’d taken a shine to Jim and were straining on their leashes.
Jim rocked back on his heels to admire his cleaning job and then returned my grin. “Maggie is never short of ideas to keep her employee busy.” His brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “I hear you’ve been keeping each other busy lately.”
There were so many ways I could take Jim’s comment, but I doubted Maggie’s dad meant for my mind to land on a sexual innuendo. I scrubbed a hand across my face and tried to conceal where my mind went. “We have been spending some time together, yeah.”
Jim examined me while the rag and spray bottle swung in one hand. “You seem happy. She’s happy. Nice to see. I wasn’t sure where this whole election thing was going.”
While I’d walked, I’d been tempted to remove my election signs from people’s front lawns. I’d dismissed most of my campaign helpers yesterday, telling them the rest was in voters’ hands. Maggie had teased me for two days straight about my gaggle of mothers and daughters who trailed me around town to do my bidding. Her gentle teasing was an indication she didn’t approve. Despite the way I’d run my campaign, Kelvin was probably right. Maggie wouldn’t appreciate winning on a concession instead of a true victory. She’d worked hard for her position, and she deserved to win it fairly.
“Life doesn’t always go the way you expect it to.” Jim squinted at the pharmacy glass and then sprayed and wiped a dull spot.
“No, it definitely does not.” I dug my fingers into the fur at Hite’s neck. The dog pressed against my knees, eager for more. “Hindsight makes me wish I’d… I don’t know. Done things differently, I guess.”
“Those big moments in life take you by surprise. I’ve had a few of those myself.” His smile was strained. “The last thing I say to my kids, every time, is I love them.”
I’d never been able to remember the last words I’d said to my father. Nothing of significance, nothing to note the gravity of speaking for the last time. As a doctor, Jim would have witnessed loved ones lamenting the things they hadn’t said, or perhaps what they had said as a parting remark. Like me, Jim had lost his father at a young age. Jim clung to his connections, and I wondered if my loss had caused me to be too wary of letting people in. “I like that. Might have to steal it someday.”
“So, do you have a plan? If you don’t win the mayoral race, what do you intend to do with yourself? Maggie said you write songs for other singers? Nothing for yourself?”
A smile threatened, and I swallowed it down. I liked that she talked about me to her parents. “I’m actually contemplating what direction I want to take. It’s been years since I’ve spent so much time in one place.”
“Getting restless?”
Was I? That was the big question. As I thought about Jim’s question, I waved and called out a ‘hello’ to a few people who passed in cars. For the last few days, I hadn’t had any desire to wander. Looking back, the urge hadn’t been there for a few weeks—not since things began to thaw between me and Maggie. “No, I don’t think I am. But an opportunity came up, and I’m not sure if I should seize it or let it pass.”
“What’s your heart telling you?” He set the spray bottle down, threw the rag over top, and crouched to pet Hite and Zeus.
“All kinds of things lately.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. My heart was telling me to stay, but my head was worried she’d find me lacking like the other men she’d cast aside, and I’d miss this producing opportunity.
When I was younger, her and Trent’s fictional relationship had been enough to send me spiraling. Now, after having had her so completely, I wasn’t sure I could stay in Little Falls if we weren’t together. I could keep in touch with Trent, my mother, and Kelvin if I went to LA, better than I’d done before. She was my reason to stay, and after only a few days together, we didn’t exactly feel stable with her so distant.
But I wanted her, more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. “Both options feel like a gamble.”
Jim’s fingers were embedded in the dogs’ fur when he looked up. “Any time I had one of those crossroads, something happened to let me know which way was best. You’ll get a sign.”
I wasn’t a religious man, and this sounded like divine intervention. People made their own luck through the choices they made. I had too much respect for Jim to question his beliefs, and so I made a joke instead. “It better be neon and flashing. I’m slow sometimes.”
He chuckled and stood up. “I doubt you’re that slow. Maggie says you’re a brilliant songwriter. She played a few of the ones you’d written for other people today in the pharmacy when we were switching off. You have a way with words.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I ran the back of my cool hand over them. Maggie and Jim had been listening to songs I’d written? She called me brilliant? A surge of pride lit me up. “She said that?”
Jim grinned. “She glows when she talks about you. It’s incredible. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see that in her. She can be closed off, resistant to forming that connection. My greatest wish for my kids is for them to find what I have with Joanna. Emily had it and lost it. Nearly broke my heart to see her struggling after Omar died. Tyler was close once, but he’s still searching. But I think Maggie’s found that connection with you.” He waved a dismissive hand. “She’d probably string me up for saying that.” He paused and seemed to be holding back another grin. “Especially for saying it to you. She’d be mortified.”
He’d never know how much I needed to hear Maggie’s perspective from someone close. The barrier she’d placed between us had made me wonder if I was alone in these feelings. “I feel the same way about her.” The words left before I could consider holding them back. “She’s the best woman I know.”
“That’s the secret.” Jim nodded. “When you feel you’ve gotten the better end of the relationship deal, you never need to look for more.”
She was exactly what I wanted. I’d been a fool for far too long. “Do you ever wish you could tell your younger self it would turn out okay? That the shitty feelings wouldn’t last forever?”
Jim pursed his lips and shook his head. “I used to feel that way. I don’t think I do anymore. You learn by getting through those bad times. That’s true as an individual but in a relationship too. If you didn’t have to put in the hard work, do you really grow? What do you learn?” He eyed me for a moment and shoved his hands in his pockets. He took a deep breath. “Those songs you wrote hurt Maggie. Hurt her deeply. Nothing she ever told me, but any time any news about you came up or any song you’d written started to play, she tuned out, switched off.”
Shame hit me in the chest as though Jim had thrown a punch. I’d hurt Maggie, and the realization, once again, made my chest ache painfully. For the rest of my life, I would do everything I could to make that up to her, to never cause her pain again. When I’d written that album, I’d been so confused and hurt I hadn’t been able to see past it. She’d consumed my thoughts and not in the good way she did now.
“I’m deeply sorry I hurt her. I just—” I searched for the words. “There’s no good reason or excuse. I intend to spend the rest of my life making it up to her. I’m sorry I let you down too.” My voice felt thick with emotion. I’d hoped Jim hadn’t connected the hit album with Maggie when I’d first come back to town, but I’d wondered. His opinion had been in the back of my mind when I’d written the songs, and it was the only reason I backed off in some of my lyrics, using veiled language instead of outright attacking her. What I’d written had been bad enough. I couldn’t even imagine the damage I would have done if Jim hadn’t also been on my mind back then.
Jim sighed. “I try to stay out of my kids’ lives unless they ask for my help. It’s hard to see your kids hurting and to know there’s nothing you can do. So, when you came back to town, when you and Maggie were circling each other, I was worried. Seemed to me you had a lot of growing up to do.”
“What happened before was all my fault.” My voice was rough. “I assumed a lot of things. I should never have done what I did.”
Jim looked down the street over my shoulder, lost in thought. “The two of you seem to be working your differences out. Here’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Communication is vital. So is perseverance. Sometimes talking a problem out is painful or excruciatingly hard. One of you has to put yourselves out there, embrace the discomfort. Otherwise, the relationship slips away.”
“That’s what you and your wife do?” I hadn’t had the privilege of seeing a marriage up close since my father died when I was twelve.
He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Most of the time. Sometimes it takes a while for one of us to get our head out of our ass, but we get there eventually. Neither of us has ever dug our heels in so long we couldn’t fix what we broke. At some point, you gotta meet the difficulties head-on and fight for what you want. The relationship comes before whether or not you were right in what you said or did or whatever has happened. You put each other first.”
You put each other first . The words reverberated in my soul. I could do that. For the rest of my life, I was confident I could find a way to put her first. “That’s good advice.”
“You need to know each other, understand each other. Maggie always likes time to come around to whatever she’s mulling over. But she gets there. Once she’s made a decision, she tends to stick to it.” Behind him, the bells of the pharmacy jingled as someone walked in. “I need to go look after things before my daughter strings me up.”
“You all set for Saturday?”
Jim’s hand was on the door, one foot already inside. “I’m not as smooth as you yet. But I have most of the moves.”
“Well, if you want a bit more practice tomorrow, I’ll be home in the afternoon, and we can go over the group routine again.”
Another smile stretched across his face. Jim looked in the pharmacy to check on the customer and then nodded. “I’d like that. I don’t mind looking like a fool for a good cause, but not being a fool is always preferable.” He hesitated. “And I meant what I said earlier. I’m glad you and Maggie are so happy together, and you’re working out whatever caused the rift between you before.”
My heart swelled in my chest as the door to the pharmacy clicked closed. Through the window, Jim greeted the customer and rang up their purchases. Talking to him had made me steadier, as though the tightrope I’d been walking might be all in my head.
At home, I filled the dog’s water dish for the second time. Once I’d left the pharmacy, I’d gone for a longer walk than normal, trying to decide about the job and whether the right thing was to discuss the opportunity with Maggie. I wouldn’t leave her, but I wanted the job. There was no doubt in my mind I’d enjoy it, be good at it. Producing would open doors in my career and lead to a steadier, better income. The only cons were the location and timeframe. Managing long-distance with Maggie was the biggest con of all.
I was halfway through a song an established artist had commissioned me to write when my phone rang. Frowning, I grabbed it off the coffee table in the middle of the room. Lila. I sent it to voicemail. In a few minutes, I’d call her back. I was close to nailing down the chorus and didn’t want to break my flow. Concert business could wait.
As soon as I was back in the zone, my phone buzzed again. Annoyance shot through me, and I grabbed the phone, prepared to send Lila to voicemail again. She tended to be persistent. But it wasn’t Lila.
Trent .
Trent called me now, but never in the middle of a workday. He was usually too busy to even answer a text message, and his lunch break was long gone.
“What’s up?” I twirled my pencil across my fingers.
There was a lengthy silence, and I checked my phone to see whether the call had dropped or maybe Trent had pocket dialed.
“Hello?” I said again.
“Sorry,” Trent’s voice was thick, and he cleared his throat. “Lila called me.” His voice cracked.
My heart dropped out of my chest and into my feet. A sweat broke out across my back. “Jesus, Trent. You’re scaring me. Is Maggie okay?” I should have answered Lila’s call. If I’d wasted precious time sending the call to voicemail, I didn’t think I could forgive myself. A car accident? Something worse? The tightness in my chest was unbearable.
“It’s her dad. He collapsed in the pharmacy.” The words were garbled, hard to understand.
Maggie was okay. Thank God, she was okay. Relief flooded in, and I released the breath I’d been holding. But Jim, Jim was not okay.
“Collapsed? At the pharmacy?” I’d been there an hour ago. I’d just seen him. “Is he at the hospital?” I tucked my phone between my ear and neck, grabbing my keys and coat. Whatever was going on, I needed to be there for Maggie.
“Yeah,” Trent said. “But, Grady…”
“What is it?” I locked my house and jogged to the truck. With a yank on the driver’s door, my thoughts flickered between Maggie and Jim. An hour ago, we’d been chatting. Jim had looked fine, and he was in good health. Fit. Strong. We were dancing together tomorrow. He’d be fine. A blip.
“He didn’t make it.” Through the phone, Trent sniffed, and his voice broke. “He died. Jim’s dead.”
With my hand on the steering wheel, I stared at the back shed, my heart fracturing into a million pieces. “What?” The word left before I could think it through. Shock . I remembered this weightlessness, as though time and space had somehow shifted and no longer made sense. Jim was dead? “What?”
“I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay? I’m on my way now.” Trent sniffed, and for the first time, I realized I was on speaker phone in a car, the traffic noises audible.
Numbness rose like a fog. On autopilot, I started my truck and sat there, staring into the distance.
“Grady?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s gonna need you, man. I know what you’re feeling right now.” He took a deep breath, and his voice was thick with tears. “But you and I gotta get out of our own fucking heads. ’Cause we know.” He exhaled sharply. “We fucking know .”
A chill settled in my bones. Throwing the vehicle into reverse, I backed out of the driveway and pointed the truck toward the hospital. When my father died, I shrank into myself, refusing help from anyone except that lone conversation with Jim. Having the security only a parent could provide ripped out of your life was catastrophic. People often described grief as a hole, but I considered it a weight, one that had buckled my knees, almost crushing. A person dragged the weight of grief around, eventually learning to carry it, but they were never the same again. If I had a choice, Maggie wouldn’t bear the load alone.